The Story of How We Met
by Claire Thomas
Summary: It's the story of how District Twelve's first Victor meets Haymitch Abernathy when they were kids before either goes into the Games. One-shot based on my story "The Other Victor".


**Even if you've never read "The Other Victor" you should still be able to follow this. If you have questions though, I recommend you find the answer in the story, because it's a good read.**

* * *

When I get home my Mother was going to ground me to death. I'd done two of the things she'd said a twelve year old Merchant's daughter should never do: go to the Seam and stay out after dark. Not to mention I was doing both at the same time. Oh, I was _soo_ dead.

Earlier that day it hadn't exactly been my plan to stay out passed sunset. Getting lost was just an unfortunate byproduct of wandering through a part of town I'd only ever heard mention of. Somewhere between following the fence line that marked the edge of District Twelve, and trying not to be seen doing so, I'd totally screwed up. Now I had no idea where the fence of anything else was for that matter. The best I could hope for was that no one would try to rob me. A long shot according to what my Mother was always telling me.

Not a block from where I was, stood a lamppost with light actually shining down out of it onto the coal covered street. In District Twelve we get four hours of electricity a night, unlike the constant supply we should have had. We only get that during the Hunger Games. At the moment I was simply grateful that, even for a little while, I would at least be safe from the monsters that hid in the dark by staying in the circle of light. And by monsters, I meant the people who lived in the Seam no doubt lurking in the shadows.

Sitting down on the edge of the lamppost I curled into a ball. Surely my parents would realize I was missing at some point and come looking. Right? I'd just have to wait. Nothing bad would happen to me, all those horror stories Mother used to warn me were just things that occurred to other people.

_Isn't that what they had thought before those things happened?_ I asked myself and suddenly felt like I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Casting my eyes wildly around me I spotted a humanoid silhouette not two blocks from my position. I rubbed my eyes the way Father did when he wanted to make sure his eyes were working straight, and looked again. Yup, there was definitely someone leaning against the side of a building. Standing up, I brushed off the seat of my worn jeans all casually. It was only then that I took off like a chicken with its head cut off.

By the time I'd ran a quarter mile I decided my senseless sprint had lost the shadow. Heart pounding in my ears I curled up with my back against another lamppost. I wrapped my arms around my knees and tucked them up against my chest. By losing the shadow person I'd become even more lost and was in an even seedier neighborhood. Some crazy person was going to jump out of the darkness, murder me, and hide my body where no one would ever find it. Could you have a funeral with no body? I doubted the Peacekeepers would let my parents bury an empty casket.

That was when I heard the sound of someone trying to make their way across a puddle as quietly as possible maybe thirty feet to my left. Hiding my head between my knees and my arms, I prayed that the person would realize I had no money and decide I wasn't worth the calories to kill.

_Oh, please, please, please, _please,_ let me live another day!_ I begged whatever higher being would listen, _I promise I'll never steal extra treats when Daddy can afford to bring them home! I'll never give my little brother Boreas another purple nerple I swear!_

"RAAAAWR!" someone bellowed from right next to me.

I screamed and punched in the direction of the noise. My fist connected and a gross snapping quickly followed. Throwing up my hands to protect my head, I was sure I was about to die.

"Ow!"

Looking at my so called attacker I just about started crying with relief. The olive toned skin and dark hair gave away that the kid was from the Seam. It was one of the boys I'd seen around school. He was one grade below me so we never hung out or even talked to one another, but at least I kinda recognized him.

"Why would you do that?" he accused, nose obviously broken because it was bleeding pretty badly.

"You scared me!" I threw back defensively.

"Well, yeah! You looked like you were about to go mental— that would have been funny to watch!"

Much less relieved now, I raised my fist to punch him again.

"Wait! I was joking!" he pleaded, on hand up to ward off my advance, "I just wanted to scare you a bit. That's all!"

"So you aren't going to rob me and leave me for dead on the side of the road?" I demanded with a tinge of disbelief.

"Maybe." He smirked.

I raised my fist again.

"Kidding!" He smiled but then his eyebrows pulled together a little bit, "Geez, learn to take a joke Upper-District."

"Titania." I huffed.

"That's a weird name."

For a second I wondered if kicking his shin would make his brain function better. Titania wasn't a common name in District Twelve— in fact I'm the only one I've heard of with it— but that didn't make it weird! It was rare and pretty.

"Oh yeah? What's your name?" I snapped.

"Haymitch." He puffed out his scrawny chest, but it just made him look ridiculous while he held his nose.

"Stupid name. Your Dad's name was probably Mitch and named you that for kicks." It was petty and mean but at the moment, I really didn't care.

"You know what? I was going to help you, but never mind." Haymitch scowled as best he could without moving his nose and walked away.

"Wait!" I called after him and ran to catch up, "I'm sorry."

"No you're not, you're just scared." Haymitch sneered angrily.

Swallowing my pride, I explained, "I'm sorry I broke your nose."

Haymitch stopped walking and gave me a long hard look with his eyes that looked like silver in the moonlight; at last he said, "Fine. I'll help you get home."

And that's how we met, Haymitch and I. Funny how it led to our being best friends and later, a couple. Not everyone could tell their kids someday 'he scared me when I was lost and I broke his nose; so that kids is how I met your father'.


End file.
